


if the heavens ever did speak

by peacefrog



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, Hannibal Confesses His Sins and Everyone Is Way Too Into It, Knifeplay, M/M, Masturbation, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Rimming, Will Graham Is Hannibal Lecter's God Basically, Will Graham Is The World's Biggest Tease
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-16 13:26:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moonless sky blanketed Hannibal’s room in total darkness. He woke to the cold press of steel against his throat and a warm body straddling his lap. Will. He could smell him clear through the hazy fog of his lingering dreams.</p><p>Hannibal swallowed and the edge of the blade pressed bluntly against his skin. “Were you hoping I’d wake before or after you made the first cut?”</p><p>Will’s body shifted and the bedside lamp clicked on. “I’ve decided how I’d like you to repay me for saving your life.”</p><p>“Am I in your debt? My life would not have required saving had you not tried to take it to begin with.”</p><p>“I think you’re whatever the guy with the knife says you are.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The moonless sky blanketed Hannibal’s room in total darkness. He woke to the cold press of steel against his throat and a warm body straddling his lap. Will. He could smell him clear through the hazy fog of his lingering dreams.

Hannibal swallowed and the edge of the blade pressed bluntly against his skin. “Were you hoping I’d wake before or after you made the first cut?”

Will’s body shifted and the bedside lamp clicked on. “I’ve decided how I’d like you to repay me for saving your life.”

“Am I in your debt? My life would not have required saving had you not tried to take it to begin with.”

“I think you’re whatever the guy with the knife says you are.”

Will’s eyes were shining and dark, swallowing up the lamplight. The confidence he brimmed with smelled heady and bright. Hannibal wanted to bottle it and wear it on his skin, dab it behind his ears and against the pulse thrumming at his wrist. He wanted to drown in it. He wanted to swallow it whole.

Hannibal gave a subtle nod, as much as the press of the blade would allow. 

“I want you to confess your sins,” Will said, voice low.

“To you, or to God?”

The scar on Will’s cheek mangled his smirk. “Does it matter?” 

Will was luminous and unafraid, far more worthy of worship than any of the deities the rest of the world considered holy. Hannibal knew that if Will slit his throat right then and there, he would consider it a worthy sacrifice, divine blood spilled at the altar of his beloved.

“May I sit up?” Hannibal asked, calm.

Will pulled the blade away and took himself with it, getting to his feet near the foot of the bed. “I want you on your knees,” he said. He rolled the handle of the knife around in his palm.

Hannibal threw back the covers and rose from the bed. The hardwood floor was cool against the soles of his bare feet. A chill prickled up the back of his neck and he reached for his sweater.

“Don’t. I want you as you are,” Will said. “Come here, I’ll build us a fire.”

When Will was through the room glowed amber-gold. Hannibal pressed his body into the warmth of it, watching the firelight dance across the steel in Will’s hand. He didn’t command Hannibal to kneel, he didn’t have to, the power in his eyes and the set of his shoulders sending Hannibal to his knees at once. The blade returned to Hannibal’s throat.

“For the sake of time, I don’t expect you to confess all of your sins,” Will said. “We’d both turn to dust long before you finished. But I would like you to say, out loud, every wicked thing you’ve done to me, or to someone that I loved.”

“Can you define the concept of sin?”

Will’s smile showed the bony ends of his teeth. “I think you should be more worried about your own concept of the word, Dr. Lecter.”

“Your morality clings to moorings made of sand. If I refuse to speak, what wicked thing do I have to look forward to?”

Will pressed the blade threateningly tight beneath Hannibal’s chin. In the firelight he was a gaunt mass of teeth and bone, far too thin from so many weeks spent bed-bound and on the brink of death. Finally healed and back on his feet, Will had perhaps succumbed to a long stretch of monotonous days in their isolated cabin. Boredom coaxed the mayhem up from his bones, and Hannibal had never been so pleased to be woken in the middle of the night.

“Start from the beginning,” Will said. He pulled the knife away, tapping it gently against the side of his thigh, but the threat remained in its wake, looming like shadows in the corner of his eye.

There was a stirring between Hannibal’s legs. He drew in one long, deep breath to settle it down, folding his hands elegantly in his lap as he gazed up into Will’s hooded eyes. He decided that he very much wanted to play Will’s wicked game. “I’ve been dishonest and disloyal to you. I betrayed your trust and your friendship. I kept secrets that could have cost you your life. I administered unorthodox therapies to you without your informed consent. I induced seizures.”

Will dragged the dull edge of the knife across the curve of Hannibal’s jaw. “Go on.”

“In my attempt to help you—” The blade was back against Hannibal’s pulse in an instant, stealing the words from his tongue. This time Will pressed in just hard enough to break the skin, sending a trickle of blood beading hot down Hannibal’s neck.

Will smiled darkly. “I asked for a confession, not an excuse.”

Hannibal scented the air. Through the woodsmoke he could smell Will’s growing arousal, how it spilled from him as surely as sparks from a flame.

“I framed you for murder.” Hannibal paused and considered his words. “Murders.”

Will’s hand had begun to shake. Hannibal could feel his muscles tense as he attempted to steady it. “Say their names.”

“Cassie Boyle,” Hannibal swallowed thickly as the blood began to dry down around his collar bone, “Marissa Schurr, Donald Sutcliffe, Georgia Madchen.”

“Abigail Hobbs.”

“My sins regarding Abigail came much later than the rest.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Will dragged the tip of the blade down Hannibal’s throat and pressed it sharply to the center of his chest. “Go on.”

“I removed Abigail Hobbs’ ear and shoved it down your throat. I violated your body and your mind.”

Controlled rage bloomed in spindly lines across Will’s face. “Go on.”

“I killed Beverly Katz when she discovered the truth about me. I sent Randall Tier after you in your own home. I manipulated Margot and Mason Verger, resulting in the death of your unborn child.”

Will pulled the knife back and dropped down to his knees. His face pressed in so close that Hannibal could feel Will’s breath against his lips. “So many sins, and you’re nowhere near finished,” he said. He traced a line across Hannibal’s abdomen with the tip of the blade, in the very spot where his own scar was etched. “Go on.”

Hannibal chose his words very carefully. “I penetrated you with a knife, and although I didn’t intend for you to die, I knew it was high on the list of potential outcomes.” Hannibal paused, drinking in the blaze reflected in Will’s eyes. “I killed our surrogate daughter when you broke my heart.”

Will cocked his eyebrow and searched Hannibal’s face with questioning eyes. “Am I really supposed to believe you have one?”

“You know that I do,” Hannibal said, reaching out his hands to grasp at Will's knees. “Why don't you plunge that blade between my ribs and see it for yourself.” 

Will leaned forward and slung his arms over Hannibal’s shoulders, knocking their foreheads together. “Not yet,” he said softly, knife hanging loosely in his hand and tickling Hannibal’s back. “You’re not finished.”

Will was practically in his lap, and Hannibal had to muster all of his control to keep his breaths steady and even. “I drew you in, halfway across the world, and when you came to me that time I truly intended to kill you.”

“Why?”

“Do you honestly believe there’s another person walking this earth I would allow to pull a knife on me and live to tell about it?” Hannibal dared to lean nearer, until their lips almost brushed. “You compromise my very existence. It was a shortsighted attempt at self preservation, one I would have regretted immensely.”

Will huffed out a laugh that tickled across Hannibal’s mouth. He teasingly dragged their lips together before abruptly pulling back away. “Continue,” he said, the knife in his hand dragging bluntly up and down Hannibal’s thigh.

Hannibal’s cock had begun to thicken and he was powerless to control it. “I sent the Great Red Dragon after your wife and step-son. I delighted in the thought of them being ripped from your arms so that you would once again be mine.”

“As if there was ever a time when I wasn’t yours.” Will’s words came out with an acrid tinge of bitterness, but his posture had gone soft. He began to drag the dull edge of the knife up to Hannibal’s groin, tracing the line of his erection. “Continue.”

“Do you measure sin as God does, Will? Or are we speaking only of those that have caused undue harm?”

Will’s knife fell away again, its absence felt more deeply than the cut still stinging against Hannibal’s neck. “I want to hear it all.”

“My sins against you have not been reserved only to violence and manipulation,” Hannibal said, voice thick and rough. “I have dreamed of you almost every night for what feels like an eternity. I’ve lusted after you, coveted your flesh for something far more than consumption.”

Will was not unaffected by this, his Adam’s apple bobbing slow as he swallowed down the revelation. He breathed in hard through his nose and squared his shoulders, willing composure back to his face. “You’d let me do anything to you, wouldn’t you?”

Hannibal caught Will’s wrist and brought the knife to his lips. His tongue darted out to lick across the smooth, flat side of the blade. “Yes,” he said, releasing Will’s wrist, a smile tugging at his lips as Will’s body tensed visibly.

Will sat back on his heels and tucked the blade into the holster at his hip. Hannibal could still taste the cool drag of steel against his tongue. Will caged Hannibal in with his arms, palms flat against the floor, as he leaned forward to lick a long stripe up the length of his neck, tracing the line of drying blood there. He stopped when he reached the small cut his blade had left in its wake, lavishing the wound with the flat press of his tongue.

Hannibal balled his hands into tight fists and his cock throbbed between his legs. He had to suppress a whimper when Will pulled away.

Will dragged his nose across Hannibal’s jaw and pressed his lips to the shell of his ear. “I think that’s enough confessions for one night,” he whispered. “Goodnight, Dr. Lecter.”

Will got to his feet and crossed the room without another word. The door clicked shut behind him and Hannibal was left melting in front of the fire. His knees had gone numb but he couldn’t will his legs to work long enough to carry himself back to the bed.

Long after the moment had passed Hannibal stayed exactly where Will left him, on his knees, hands clasped in his lap as if in solemn prayer. He shivered against the warmth spreading across his skin, body quivering with the dance of golden flames.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I decided I just really wanted to make Hannibal suffer immensely post-fall and then this happened. I have no idea how many more chapters I plan on writing here but I enjoy Will being a tease far too much, so I'm just going to let this go as far as he would like it to...


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I wonder,” Will said, his fingers beginning to work his belt loose, “if the concept of remorse is entirely foreign to you.”

Hannibal woke with a searing pain shooting across his abdomen. It had been nearly three months since he and Will had been swallowed up and spit back out by the Atlantic, and his injuries had almost entirely healed. He reached down and ran his fingers along the knobby scar near his navel and was greeted by nothing more than a mass of mangled connective tissue.

The pain, perhaps, was only in his head. The ghost of what might have been. A rippling, persistent longing.

The chill of winter was drawing near and Hannibal pulled on a pair of heavy socks and a sweater before venturing out of his room and heading toward the kitchen. He found Will sitting at the center island, sipping a mug of steaming coffee.

“Good morning,” Hannibal said, groggily making his way to the coffee pot.

“How’d you sleep?”

“Well,” Hannibal lied. He’d barely slept an hour, at best. “You?”

“Like a baby.” Will’s eyes were downcast, reading something on their tablet. “I was thinking, we should probably be moving on soon.”

“I agree,” Hannibal said, taking the seat next to Will. “We’ll go through the last of our food and water in less than a month, and I’d prefer to not venture out again. We should depart before winter is entirely upon us.”

Hannibal had made far more trips into the surrounding towns than he deemed safe, loading up on non-perishables, gas for the generator, and enough stolen medicine to keep Will’s once imminent death at-bay. There was a stream that cut through the back of their property where he’d caught an ample supply of fish while Will was still bed-ridden, but as the chill in the air grew more persistent, the fish had all but disappeared. 

“You’ve grown restless.” Hannibal peered down at what Will was looking at on the tablet. Boats for sale on the Atlantic coast.

“Cabin fever.”

“It’s not often in our lives we get to use that term so literally.”

Will flipped the cover down across the tablet screen and pushed it aside. He turned in his seat until his knee knocked against Hannibal’s thigh. “Would you like to make me breakfast?” he asked, a playful glint growing in his eyes.

Hannibal made them oatmeal with dried fruit, and peanut butter on whole wheat crackers. They ate at the small kitchen table, Will’s foot reaching out underneath to skim against Hannibal’s ankle.

Will locked his eyes on Hannibal as he licked his spoon clean. “When we get where we’re going, you’ll cook for me properly, won’t you?”

Hannibal dropped his spoon down into his empty bowl and watched it rattle against the edge. His face blossomed warm and flushed, a feeling so foreign to him he wished to carve it out and drown it slowly in the kitchen sink. “What would you like me to cook for you?” he asked, chasing a moment of uneasy silence.

Will’s smile came with a sharp flash of teeth. “Maybe I’ll bring you something… _pink_ to cook up for me.”

“Salmon, perhaps.” The words felt clunky in Hannibal's mouth.

“Not exactly what I had in mind,” Will said, pushing out from the table and crossing to Hannibal’s chair. Will loomed over him like a fog. “After you’ve cleaned up, come to my room. We’ve yet to discuss how you’re going to repent.”

— 

Will had dragged Hannibal's unconscious body from the angry mouth of the Atlantic ocean. Later, at the cabin, infection bit Will to the bone, and it was Hannibal's turn to do the saving. Hannibal knew the game Will was playing had nothing at all to do with any perceived life debt, but he found himself more than willing to indulge Will's whims all the same. Perhaps the cabin fever ran both ways. Perhaps he really was just willing to give Will anything his cunning heart desired.

Will’s bedroom sat at the end of a short hall, packed into a tight corner directly across from Hannibal’s. The curtains in the room were drawn tight, yellow lines of sunlight pouring in through the cracks. The roaring fire illuminated the room just as Hannibal’s had been the previous night. Will was perched at the foot of the bed, hands upturned and empty in his lap.

Will stood when he saw Hannibal in the doorway. “Have a seat.”

Hannibal quietly shut the door and took Will’s spot on the bed, the heat leftover from his body seeping through the fabric of Hannibal’s pants and deep into his bones.

“I wonder,” Will said, his fingers beginning to work his belt loose, “if the concept of remorse is entirely foreign to you.”

Hannibal’s eyes flicked from Will’s hands up to his face. “You’re here with me now,” he said. “It’s hard to feel remorse for the events that have lead to this outcome.”

Will pulled his belt free from his pants and held it folded in his hand. “Yes, I suppose you would feel that way,” he said. “So certain that this time I’ll stay.”

Hannibal watched as the firelight glinted off the buckle of the belt. “Gods abandon their creations all the time.”

“I’m not a God,” Will said, stepping forward until his leg pressed in between Hannibal’s knees, “and I haven’t created anything.”

“Perhaps you’re less aware of yourself now than I’ve given you credit for.” Hannibal reached up to run his fingers along the smooth leather in Will’s hand. “You’ve changed me as much as I’ve changed you. Even more perhaps.”

“Gods don’t repent.”

“No,” Hannibal said, “they don’t.”

Will drew the looped end of the belt down across Hannibal’s chest. “Early Christians believed the act of self-flagellation would cleanse them of their sins. Suffering brought them closer to their God, the scars left behind a constant reminder of their remorse.”

“Do you intend to watch me whip myself in worship at your feet?” The shallow cut on Hannibal’s neck thrummed with the promise of fresh blood. Anticipation swarmed hot just beneath his skin.

Will’s laugh carried with it the air of something dark and cold. “No,” he said, “no. Physical torment won’t affect you any more than a spark stokes a flame.” Will curled his free hand loosely around Hannibal’s throat. “Part of me thinks you’d even like it.”

Hannibal knew, coming from Will’s hand, or from his own under Will’s command, every blow would be sweeter than spun sugar melting against his tongue.

“I want you to turn your back to me and kneel in the center of the bed,” Will said, drawing the belt in a teasing line through his fist.

Hannibal thrilled at the notion he had no idea where Will would take his curious game. He stripped off his socks and sweater before positioning himself on the bed. When Will drew Hannibal’s hands around behind his back and began to bind them with the belt, Hannibal’s arousal shot like a current straight to his head. For a moment he feared that he would topple right over, entirely overwhelmed.

“I’ve decided against blindfolding you for now,” Will said, tightening the belt around Hannibal’s wrists, “but if you turn around, if you glance beyond the boundaries of exactly what’s in front of you, I may not be so kind.”

The binds at Hannibal’s wrists were not overly-tight, and in truth he could have slipped from them easily if he so desired to. But that would end the game, the thrill, dull the embers brimming in Will’s eyes, and to do that was unthinkable in Hannibal’s mind. 

“Shall I say my Hail Marys now, or after you have finished?”

Will laughed in earnest then, a deep sound pulled up from the recesses of his belly. “Oh, Dr. Lecter, if only words could help you now.”

Hannibal drew in a languid breath and shut his eyes. Behind him came the undeniable sound of a zipper being undone and the rustling of fabric. The heavy fall of denim to the floor. Will sighing steadily. A plastic cap being popped open.

The deep, intoxicating scent of Will’s arousal flushed into his nose and flooded his lungs. Hannibal’s own heart thudded uncontrollably within the cage of his chest.

Over the crackling of the fire a slick sound arose in the air. A rumbling moan spilled up from Will’s throat. “You know, I have been feeling restless lately,” he said. “I think I need to release a bit of tension, what do you think doctor?”

“Too much unreleased stress on the body can be harmful over time,” Hannibal said, his voice cracked and ruined beyond his immediate control. 

Will’s footfalls came closer to the end of the bed. The mattress dipped low when he knelt against it. “I haven’t really touched myself much since before all of this,” he said. “I’d almost forgotten how good it feels.” 

Hannibal swallowed thickly around the words lodging themselves in his throat. The bed creaked and the slick sound of Will’s cock gliding through his fist echoed through the chambers of Hannibal’s mind, the heady scent flooding his nostrils threatening to snap Hannibal in two. Will groaned and Hannibal could almost make out the reflection of him in the corner of mind, a slack-jawed blur more radiant than the sun.

“Mmm,” Will hummed. Hannibal could see him throwing his head back exposing the line of his throat. “It really has been too long. I’m so close already.”

Hannibal fought against the beast howling deep inside. It strained against its chains behind his teeth and coiled against his spine. It would be so very easy to pull himself free and pin Will to the mattress or the floor. To hold his hips down and swallow him whole until the thickness of his length slid down Hannibal’s throat in a glorious, agonizing choke.

“Would God seek to punish me in such a way?” Hannibal shifted uncomfortably atop the mattress, his erection tenting the front of his pajama bottoms in the most obscene fashion.

“I think that God would go too easy on you,” Will moaned. Hannibal could almost feel the glide of Will’s cock in his own hand. “He doesn’t know you nearly as well as I do.”

The sounds spilling from Will’s fist sped up at an erratic pace, his labored breathing coming out in puffs so strong Hannibal could feel them tickling the back of his neck. His cries came out with total abandon, shameless in the way he stroked himself through the orgasm that rippled through the room like a crashing wave. The scent of his release flooded Hannibal’s mouth with ravenous hunger. 

Will’s unsteady breaths were the only sounds filling the room for a long stretch of moments, and then he began to moan again. “You know, I’d never thought to taste myself like this before,” he said, his words punctuated by the sound of his own messy fingers being sucked into his mouth. “It’s very distinct.”

“Will,” Hannibal croaked, fists bunched so tight his nails began to cut into the flesh of his palms, “is it your desire that I beg for what you certainly know I want?”

Will pressed himself up against Hannibal’s back and snaked an arm around his neck. “Would you like a taste?” he asked, hovering his finger just out of reach of Hannibal’s lips.

Hannibal leaned forward and darted his tongue out, seeking the drop of come clinging to the pad of Will’s finger. Before he could make contact, Will snatched his hand away.

“On second thought,” Will said, “you must be awfully full still from breakfast. Wouldn’t want to ruin your appetite for the rest of the day, would we?”

Will sucked the finger between his lips out of Hannibal’s line of sight. Hannibal couldn’t fight the whimper that spilled out with his breath.

Will unbound his wrists and Hannibal slumped down against the mattress. He wanted so terribly to touch himself, but he wanted Will to touch him so much more.

“Am I now forgiven?” Hannibal asked, turning his head just in time to see Will buttoning the fly of his jeans.

“This isn’t about forgiveness. You had that a long time ago, or are you so quick to forget?”

“Penance seeks forgiveness. If we have nothing to strive for, why do we repent?”

Will crawled back onto the bed and hovered his face just above Hannibal’s, thin smile distorting the lines of his face. “The answer to that,” he said, wetting his lips with the drag of his tongue, “will become much clearer for both of us in time.”

—

Long after Hannibal had left, Will sat alone in his little corner room, curtains still drawn and the scent of his own desperation permeating the air. His face had grown mottled and hot, the ghosts of tears prickling in the corners of his eyes. 

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his hands from shaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't think I would have another chapter up so soon, yet here we are... this has sort of taken over my brain for the moment, but daily updates probably aren't going to be a thing... unless they are, who knows, I don't make the rules here Will Graham generally does. I'm thinking I should be able to accomplish my ~goal with three more chapters, but I don't want to commit to that number just yet because this literally has a mind of its own at the moment and anything could happen from this point forward.
> 
> Thank you so much to everyone for your kind words of encouragement, they mean more to me than I could ever possibly express! If you'd like you can always come say hi to me on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do I have your consent to do as I please with your body?” Will asked, dropping the knife back into his lap.
> 
> Hannibal’s eyes grew black as shadows. “Yes.”

The sun dipped low against the horizon, setting the sky ablaze in shades of pink and gold that bled in through the kitchen windows. Hannibal stood at the counter preparing their paltry dinner of frozen fish, rice, and canned vegetables, watching the light dance against the backs of his hands.

Down the hall the bathroom door flew open and Will emerged with a thick cloud of steam blanketing him from his head down to his toes. From where Hannibal stood in the kitchen he had a perfect view. Will was completely naked, beads of water clinging to his skin as he shook his hair dry like a dog.

He stretched his body out long, arms above his head and the line of his neck arching like a bow. He stalked toward the kitchen with slow, calculating steps, hips swaying to the rhythm of Hannibal’s pulse, his soft cock hanging heavy between his legs. He rounded the counter and pressed himself up against Hannibal’s back, nuzzling his face between Hannibal’s shoulders.

“What’s for dinner?”

Hannibal nearly dropped the knife he was using to dice the canned green beans. “Something quite unspectacular,” he said, breathing deep as the line of Will’s cock brushed against his ass. “I hope you will enjoy it all the same.”

Will hummed and pulled away. “I’m sure I will.”

“How was your shower?”

Will rounded the counter again and stared at Hannibal over his shoulder. Wet curls fell into his eyes and a thin ribbon of water trickled down his spine. “Steamy,” he said, coyly.

His skin was supple and pink, mottled red in places where the stream of hot water had been allowed to remain far too long. Hannibal stared, unblinking, just as he knew Will desired him to. His backside was something normally only seen carved in marble from a master’s hand. Hannibal memorized every curve and stored them away for later.

Will turned and sauntered back down the hall. As he disappeared around the corner Hannibal gently set down the knife and willed the stirring between his legs to cease. He’d resisted the urge to touch himself since Will began their little game the previous night, but standing there in the silence of the kitchen he seriously considered reaching into his slacks for some relief. 

Hannibal squared his shoulders and picked up the knife, refocusing his attention on the task at hand as the blazing sky swallowed up the last remaining rays of sun. For perhaps the first time since he was very young, the dice of the vegetables came out jagged and uneven.

— 

Will lay on his bed staring at the ceiling, fist curled loosely around the handle of the knife he’d woken Hannibal with the night before. He ran a finger along the seam of his abdominal scar, the skin around it feeling paper thin and delicate as a moth’s wing. He followed the path of his finger with the blunt edge of his blade, chasing the ghost of himself in some broken, long forgotten life.

Sometimes his scar still ached, a phantom throb of memories that the fragile shell of his body could barely contain. As he dressed, the weight of his clothes felt more like lead than cotton and denim. Every mark on his body was an ember being stoked from within, the old ones ripped wide open just as surely as the new.

Will carried the knife with him out to the kitchen and took his seat at the table. Hannibal finished plating their meals, overfilled their wine glasses, and took the seat opposite Will. Will couldn’t tear his eyes away from the tight line of Hannibal’s lips. 

Will tapped his finger against the blade of his knife, fighting against the churning of his stomach. “How many people have you killed?” he asked, pushing rice around his plate with the tines of his fork. “If you had to estimate.”

Will could see the gears turning behind Hannibal’s eyes. “Many more than the world will ever know.”

“Dozens?” Will gulped down a large mouthful of wine, its flavor rich and deep. “No, hundreds I bet.”

“In your lifetime, how many animals do you estimate you’ve consumed?”

 _I want to kiss you_ , Will thought. _Why do I want to kiss you this much_? “People aren’t pigs.”

“Some are no better.”

“Is that how God views our world? A pen filled with livestock for his consumption?”

“Fish in a barrel, perhaps.” Hannibal’s eyes fell down to Will’s fingers splayed against the knife. “God’s cruelty is not bound by the limitations of human morality.”

“Some would say neither is yours.”

“And yours?” Hannibal asked, the tension in his posture all too apparent. “To what ends will your cruelty take us?”

They ate in silence until their plates were clean, the air between them suffocating. Will clutched the knife closely to his chest.

“If you’d like to cut me properly, you need only ask,” Hannibal said as he cleared their plates. 

When Hannibal returned to the table to refill their glasses, Will pulled him down to kneel at his feet. He turned in his chair and pressed the flat edge of the blade to Hannibal’s face. “What if I said I’d like to remove one of your organs? Would you prepare it for me after? Would you pick out the perfect wine to compliment your own unique flavor?”

The barest hint of a smile painted Hannibal’s face. “Would you keep me conscious during, to assist in the removal?”

Will’s chest seemed to close in around his heart. “Tell me that you love me,” he said, resting the blade against the side of Hannibal’s neck.

“Can those words truly contain the magnitude of what I feel for you?” Hannibal asked, drawing Will in with the softness of his eyes. “Of what you feel for me?”

Will strained to keep his hand from shaking. “Say it.”

“I love you,” Hannibal said plainly. It sounded like a prayer. His hands were clasped tightly together in his lap.

The words should have felt senseless coming from the mouth of such a man, should have felt mocking and stilted. Will felt them right down to his toes, felt them coiling bright in empty spaces where once there had been nothing but dark.

“Do I have your consent to do as I please with your body?” Will asked, dropping the knife back into his lap.

Hannibal’s eyes grew black as shadows. “Yes.”

Will could cut him from ear-to-ear and Hannibal would bleed out happily against his feet. He could carve out Hannibal’s heart and feel it quiver bloodless in the palm of his hand. He could leave his mark forever against Hannibal’s skin, slashed deep into the flesh of his handsome face.

Instead, he pushed Hannibal face down on the tile floor and fetched the olive oil from the counter. He tugged Hannibal’s pants and underwear down around his ankles. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you Dr. Lecter?”

Hannibal strained to look at Will over his shoulder, pressing his cheek tight against the floor. “Nothing would please me more.”

Will pulled his own pants and underwear off, tossing them behind him on the floor. He straddled Hannibal’s thighs and slicked his cock with oil, drizzling an ample amount in between Hannibal’s cheeks. “Life doesn’t always unfold how we imagined it would,” he said, dragging the head of his cock across Hannibal’s slicked up entrance.

Hannibal groaned and arched his back, pressing up into the contact. Will roughly shoved his hips back down against the floor. He squeezed Hannibal’s cheeks together around his aching cock, fucking in between them with slow, calculating snaps of his hips.

“God takes so much,” Will said, deliberate in the way he dragged his cock head across Hannibal’s hole with every pass, “and gives so very little in return.”

“We are merely pawns in his game,” Hannibal said, voice shaking and wrecked. “To defy him, we must be cunning and entirely conscious of our actions.”

Will pressed himself in a tight line against Hannibal’s back, gripping his wrists and locking them together above his head. “Would you defy me… Hannibal?” Will laughed deep in his chest as Hannibal whimpered at the sound of his own name. “Am I to truly believe I’ve tamed the beast?”

“I would never allow another to have me as I’ve allowed you.”

Will lost himself to blinding lust, biting down hard on the nape of Hannibal’s neck, his cock sliding slick down between Hannibal’s cheeks. Hannibal’s body was warm and pliant, the monster that would devour the world his and his alone, every part of him there for the taking.

Will’s knife glinted on the floor at his side, reflecting the yellow glow of the harsh fluorescents. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to reach for it, gripping Hannibal’s wrists tight as he rutted and writhed. He lapped at the bite mark he’d left against Hannibal’s skin, the imprints of his teeth nearly deep enough to break the skin. He didn’t sink his teeth in again.

Will came for the second time that day with a muffled sob into Hannibal’s hair, spilling down his crack and up to the small of his back, collapsing on the floor at Hannibal’s side when he was entirely spent.

The fingers of one hand sought out the cool edge of the knife’s blade where it lay, the other reaching out to curl around Hannibal’s blood-warmed wrist.

—

Hannibal could have come easily with Will on top of him, the friction between his body and the floor more than enough to send him over the edge. He’d held off only because he knew that Will wanted him to. Hannibal’s release would come in time, if he would allow it to be so. If he would ever allow their game to end.

Hannibal wondered himself if he truly wanted it to. So much of their time together, after all, had been spent in the arms of the chase. He wondered what they would become without blades held tightly at their necks and tucked hidden in the cuffs of their sleeves. 

Curled up in front of the fire, tablet open in his lap, the teeth marks left at Hannibal’s nape sang beautiful and deep. He hoped it would be a very long time before they faded away.

Hannibal pulled up the listings Will had been poring over earlier in the day. Most of the boats nearest them were small and unimpressive, or in such bad condition they would need weeks to get it in proper working order. He mindlessly scrolled for what felt like a small eternity before something truly fantastic caught his eye. 

The yacht was larger than anything Will had likely ever dreamed. Seventy feet from bow to stern, Ægir was a glimmering beast fit for the wildest seas. Hannibal didn’t blink at the price tag, $1.2 million was a drop in the bucket of what he had tucked away in offshore accounts and remaining from his family’s estate.

Will was worth nothing less than a God beneath his feet, cutting through the ocean and steering them both wherever his curious whims desired.

Hannibal had to fight the urge to buy it right then and there, bookmarking it for later instead. He closed the tablet and snuffed out the fire and made his way down the hall to his room. He passed by Will’s door and listened carefully for a moment, his ears filling with nothing but the hollow sound of silence. He brushed his teeth and stripped naked before climbing into his bed. He had left the door open just a fraction of an inch.

His fingers flexed slowly atop the covers, his cock hard and aching in quiet anticipation. He kept his eyes trained on the crack in the door, hoping to spy a glimpse of light pouring from Will’s room as he made his way across the hall. His eyes grew heavy and the light never came, dreams rushing in to swallow him whole.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to everyone who has left such lovely comments here and on tumblr! As always, you guys are the fuel that keeps my writing fire burning on my very worst days. I will never be able to express my gratitude in words. <3
> 
> I'm thinking two more chapters, but anyone who has ever written these two knows how it goes, it really all depends on how much Will continues to cooperate...
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How does it feel?” Will’s chest was heaving and his eyes had grown dark.
> 
> Hannibal smirked. He knew Will could feel how hard he was growing between his legs. “Wonderful.”
> 
> “You’re not supposed to enjoy this.”
> 
> “You don’t truly wish to hurt me.”

Hannibal woke to a deep knocking sound coming from just outside the cabin. He dressed quickly and pulled on his heavy jacket and boots. He stepped outside with his breath steaming in the air and the early morning sun streaming right into his sleep-heavy eyes.

He rounded the cabin and found Will by the wood pile, axe swinging through the air as he split log after log in two.

“You should be careful with your shoulder,” Hannibal said. “You’ve yet to regain your full range of motion.”

Will cleaved a thick log down the middle with a heavy clunk. He pushed the pieces aside and set his sights on the next. “Seems just fine to me,” he said. “Make us some coffee?”

“Of course. How long have you been out here?” By the looks of the pile at his side, it had been some time.

“I don’t know,” Will huffed. “I just needed to get out of the house.”

Will was bundled up in a thick quilted coat with a knitted cap pulled down over his ears. His hair was getting longer by the day, curls unkempt and wild sticking out from underneath. His beard was growing full and thick, near the point of entirely concealing his twisted facial scar. His cheeks and nose cherry-red from far too long in the cold, he was more beautiful in that moment than Hannibal could ever recall.

Will swung the axe down to lodge in the chopping block and turned his attention to Hannibal. “I had a dream about you,” he said, pulling off his gloves and shoving them into the pocket of his coat. 

Hannibal backed up slow as Will approached, stopping only when his back hit the hard side of the cabin, allowing himself to be trapped, never more pleased to be Will’s prey. “And how did I haunt you in this dream?”

Will pressed his body so close their knees knocked together. “You weren’t haunting me. You were fishing down in the stream, but you weren’t catching fish.”

Will’s breath turned to ice on the air as he spoke. “You were pulling organs from the water, so many that they kept getting tangled in your line. They piled up at your feet and I knew that they were mine before I even looked down and saw my ribs split wide open.” Will’s cool lips grazed Hannibal’s stubbled cheek. “I was all hollowed out inside.”

“Sounds more like a nightmare than a dream.”

“Maybe,” Will said, wrapping a cold hand loosely around Hannibal’s neck. “Coffee,” he breathed against Hannibal’s lips, “please.”

Will pulled away and slipped his gloves out of his pocket and went back to the chopping block. Hannibal watched him for a moment longer before making his way back into the cabin and putting a pot of coffee on in the kitchen. He sat at the counter listening to the hum of the generator just outside, the thud of Will’s axe filling him to the brim.

— 

Will was not, in fact, all hollowed out inside. He spilled from himself into the chilly morning air, the axe in his hand an extension of his own beating heart. It cleaved and it swung, a pendulum cutting through the fog of his mind.

Months earlier, as he lay in bed clinging to the last tendrils his life had to offer, he told himself that if he lived, he would leave Hannibal behind once and for all. Perhaps he could still have a quiet life alone with his dogs. Perhaps he could find someone else to love him if Molly wouldn’t take him back. Perhaps he could manage to eke out enough peace that he wouldn’t find himself swallowing a bullet years down the road, the ache of all that he had lost far too much to bear.

As the threat of imminent death dissipated, so did his will to run. His anger festered and grew, but all of it, every last drop, was reserved for himself and himself alone. He’d put a knife to Hannibal’s throat understanding himself less than he had in years. He’d pulled it away knowing exactly who he was meant to be. Exactly who he had always been.

His shoulder ached and his chest burned when he split the final log in two. He carried an armful of wood into the cabin and deposited it in the living room near the fireplace. He followed the rich scent of coffee into the kitchen and warmed his hands on the mug Hannibal had waiting for him on the counter. 

Hannibal approached from behind and placed his hand on Will’s shoulder. “Are you hurt?”

Will winced and pulled away. “It’s fine,” he said, slumping down in his chair. “One too many swings. I’ll go easy on it for a few days.”

“We had plenty of wood before you began.”

Hannibal’s hand returned to Will’s shoulder and this time he didn’t shy away. He could feel himself melting and all the tension he had been carrying fell away. “Don’t, okay,” his voice began to quiver. “I’m fine. Thank you for the coffee.”

Hannibal took the seat next to Will and gave him a curious look. “You’re welcome,” he said, wrapping his hands around his own mug. “You enjoy telling me what to do. You enjoy it even more when I listen.”

“I don’t know that I particularly enjoy anything about this.”

“When you demand I repent, you also demand it of yourself.” Hannibal placed his hand on Will’s knee. It felt like fire even though the denim of his jeans. “Do you intend for us to live the remainder of our days in perpetual penance? Haunted by the ghosts of moral shortcomings and what you perceive we should be?”

Will found he couldn’t muster the strength to play any sort of game. “I don’t know what I intend anymore, Hannibal.”

Hannibal pressed his other hand to Will’s face, thumbing the coarse hair of his beard and tracing along the ridges of his scar. “I would like for you to cut me.”

Will’s stomach clenched. He leaned into the warmth radiating from Hannibal’s hand. “Why?”

“I believe it would be therapeutic for you. Nothing extreme, just enough to see me bleed.”

Will’s eyes flicked down to the scabbed over nick on Hannibal’s neck. “I already made you bleed.”

“Perhaps it wasn’t enough,” Hannibal said, pulling his hands away. “Might I suggest a more ideal location?”

— 

Hannibal took the vinyl shower curtain from the bathroom and spread it across his bed, then topped it off with a plain white sheet. Not entirely ideal, but it would do in a pinch to protect the bedding below. He gathered antiseptic and gauze and a stack of towels and arranged them all on his bedside table. He sterilized Will’s knife for him and placed it on the bed.

Hannibal stripped off his shirt and positioned himself on top of the sheet, cradling his head comfortably on the stack of pillows. He wet a gauze pad with antiseptic and wiped down his abdomen as Will straddled his hips. 

Will’s body language was softer than it had been in days. Perhaps he had just exhausted himself with too many swings of his axe. Perhaps he had already tired of playing his game.

“You won’t have to press very hard to break the skin,” Hannibal said, his body thrumming with an easy calm. “Try and keep your movement fluid and your hand steady.”

Will took the blade in his hand and held it to Hannibal’s skin. It was cool but warmed quickly against the rise and fall of his breathing. He had a hand as steady as any surgeon Hannibal had ever known. Perhaps in another life they would have met in an operating room, destined to spill blood together in every version of reality.

Pain blossomed beautiful and sharp at the first drag of the blade’s edge on his abdomen, a shallow ribbon of blood rushing out just above his navel. It was precisely in the place where Will’s own abdominal scar lay. Will’s incision measured barely an inch across when he pulled the knife away.

“How does it feel?” Will’s chest was heaving and his eyes had grown dark.

Hannibal smirked. He knew Will could feel how hard he was growing between his legs. “Wonderful.”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this.”

“You don’t truly wish to hurt me.”

Will remained locked in Hannibal’s gaze for a moment. His eyes were endless pools of curious secrets. Perhaps one day Hannibal would make his way to the bottom. 

Will tore his eyes away and pressed the blade back to Hannibal’s skin, continuing the line of the incision. He cut another two inches across and the blood began to well and spill down to Hannibal’s side. Will tossed the knife down on the bed, spattering the sheets. He dragged his fingers through the droplets clinging to Hannibal’s belly, staining himself crimson.

“And how do you feel?” Hannibal asked. The pain tasted like Will’s name in his mouth.

Will was staring at the blood dripping from his fingers, mesmerized. “I don’t know.”

Will’s mind may have been lost in a fog, but his body was entirely present. Hannibal resisted the urge to grip the hard line of Will’s erection through his pants. Instead he reached for the antiseptic and wound dressing and began to clean himself.

Halfway through dressing the wound Will snapped out of his daze. His fingers pressed the gauze tightly against Hannibal’s skin. The blood had stopped seeping out almost entirely. Hannibal pulled back his hands and allowed him to secure the dressing firmly in place.

Will knitted his brows together in dawning concern. “This won’t need stitches?”

“It’s very shallow,” Hannibal said, “unlikely to leave a lasting scar.”

Will’s face relaxed as he reached down to rub himself through the front of his jeans. The half-dried blood on his fingers stained the denim moonlit black. “We should clean up this mess,” he said, voice strained as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Alright,” Hannibal agreed, rocking his hips up once to rub between Will’s legs.

Will let out a shuddering breath and stilled Hannibal’s movement with his hands. His fingers dug into Hannibal’s hips bruisingly deep. Hannibal imagined it took all of Will’s remaining strength to forcefully pull his body away. 

In that moment, denying them both, Will won his final lasting victory.

—

Seeing Hannibal bleed toed the line between pleasure and agony. Will felt it deep behind his eyes and down in the roots of his teeth. It was beautiful and it was horrific, a bloodletting he felt as surely as it were his own flesh being split in two. 

It was full dark when he walked from the house and the stars were like shards of glass glinting in the blue-black sky. He passed the chopping block on his way, running his fingers along the handle of the axe. His shoulder still throbbed with a dull ache. He felt certain they had more than enough wood to last them until they made their final exit from this place.

The stream wasn’t far from the cabin, cutting into the earth where the land dipped down and stretching on for miles into the distance. Will stood on the bank and let the icy air fill deep into his lungs. The water was like an oil slick blanketing the ground. 

He pulled the knife from the holster at his hip and held it high into the moonlight. Hannibal’s blood still painted the edges. With a flick of his wrist he tossed it down into the stream, wondering how long it would take before the water washed it clean. It was unlikely to ever be discovered, and if it were they would be long gone by then.

Will stared down at the murky water for a moment longer before heading back to the cabin. Inside, he stood in the darkness of the kitchen sipping a glass of bourbon and staring at his own reflection in the window. He put the glass in the sink when he was through and made his way down the hallway to his room. He twisted the knob but stopped short of pushing the door open. 

Will slowly turned himself around. He opened the door to Hannibal’s room instead.

—

I wanted to hurt you  
but the victory is that i could not stomach it.  
—Richard Siken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, a huge thank you to everyone who has been reading and commenting, you're all the very best! The final chapter will be coming your way soon!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I have a few confessions of my own to make,” Will said.
> 
> Hannibal stretched his arms out above his head. His cock was fully erect. His eyes were locked on Will in rapt attention.

Hannibal was waiting for him when the door creaked open, sprawled out naked on the bed, moonlight spilling through the open curtains painting his skin pale silver. Will stood over him and ran his fingers down Hannibal’s abdomen, across the bandage there.

“I have a few confessions of my own to make,” Will said.

Hannibal stretched his arms out above his head. His cock was fully erect. His eyes were locked on Will in rapt attention.

Will crawled onto the bed and knelt at Hannibal’s side. “I very much want to hate you,” he said, resting his hand on the curve of Hannibal’s ribcage. “I know that I should hate you.”

Hannibal placed his hand atop Will’s. “Hatred is a choice no more than love.”

“I… wanted to make you suffer. I thought hearing what you’d done from your own mouth would make it easier.” Will pulled his hand away and began to unbutton his shirt. “It didn’t.”

Will tossed his shirt to the floor and reached for Hannibal’s hand. He brought it to his chest and sighed as Hannibal deft fingers trailed down to trace the ridges of his scar. “I don’t know if there is a God,” Will continued, arousal thickening his own cock inside his jeans. “Faith has always felt entirely foreign to me. But I know what I feel for you, and it’s not contempt.”

Hannibal hooked a finger beneath Will’s belt. He skimmed along the waistband of his jeans until he came to the empty knife holster at Will’s hip. “Have we laid down our arms?”

Will pushed Hannibal’s hand away and unbuckled his belt. “I want your mouth on me,” he said, the heady rush of arousal overcoming all his senses.

Hannibal sat up and Will took his place on the bed. Hannibal tore Will’s pants and underwear off and discarded them on the floor. He pushed Will’s knees back and settled in between his legs. Will threaded his fingers in Hannibal’s hair as he nosed along the junction where thigh met hip.

“You were right,” Will groaned, gripping Hannibal’s hair with both hands. “I do like telling you what to do. And I love that you listen. I love that you love to listen to me. You’d do anything to please me.”

Will guided Hannibal’s mouth down onto his cock. Hannibal suckled at the tip like a holy man seeking redemption. His tongue flicked out to lap at the pre-come as it leaked in a steady stream. Will couldn’t recall ever being more aroused.

He pushed up into the velvet heat of Hannibal’s mouth. Hannibal moaned, a low rumble rippling through both their bodies and sending sparks down to Will’s toes. Will planted his feet flat against the mattress and bucked his hips, pulling Hannibal’s head down in time with his own desperate thrusts.

He slid into Hannibal’s throat so easy. The pleasure was near blinding. Will’s balls drew tight, already so close to the edge, as the searing heat of Hannibal’s flesh embraced him. Hannibal gripped Will’s hips as if he were the only thing anchoring him to the earth. Hannibal’s sobs of pleasure racked through Will’s body as he roughly fucked his eager mouth, burying himself to the hilt.

Hannibal’s hips snapped down against the mattress. He rutted wildly atop the sheets, a wanton beast desperately chasing his own pleasure.

“Don’t come yet,” Will ceased his thrusts and pulled Hannibal’s mouth off with a slick pop. “Do you have any lubrication?”

Spit dribbled from Hannibal’s lips and down his chin, glistening like the sea. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“Oh yes,” Will purred. “And you’re going to come from my cock inside you and nothing more. I think you could come just thinking about it.”

“I’m very close already.” Hannibal sat back on his heels and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. With his ruffled hair and thick cock jutting out from between his legs, he looked more human than Will could ever recall. “There is lubrication in the nightstand. Condoms as well.”

“I don’t want any barriers between us.” Will got to his knees and reached down to wrap his fingers around Hannibal’s erection, just to feel the weight of it in his hand. “Lie back and stack the pillows beneath your hips.”

As Hannibal positioned himself Will shut his eyes. Behind his lids burst a million pinpoints of light, a brilliant dance of faraway stars. His own blood ticked a frantic melody in his ears. When he opened them again Hannibal was lying on the bed, pillows thrusting his hips out into the air. His thighs were spread wide and his knees were drawn up to his chest.

Hannibal gazed up at Will with faithful worship in his eyes. In the moonlit dark his face was slack-jawed and soft. His mouth was stricken entirely speechless.

Will reached over and clicked on the bedside lamp. “I want to see all of you.”

He retrieved the lubrication from the nightstand and tossed it beside Hannibal on the bed. In the glow of the lamp Hannibal’s skin was mottled and red, burning from the inside with years of pent-up desire.

Will dragged his fingers up the back of Hannibal’s thigh. “How long have you wanted this? For me to be inside you?”

“So long it seems it’s been a part of me forever,” Hannibal said, voice a quivering thing clawing up from his chest.

Will trailed two fingers between Hannibal’s cheeks and across his puckered hole. Hannibal’s body quaked at the contact. “When you were locked away, did you touch yourself thinking about it?”

“Often.”

Will gazed down at the feast set before him and he couldn’t help but dive in and taste. He buried his face between Hannibal’s cheeks and licked a long stripe across his hole. Hannibal’s cock leapt against his belly as Will slicked him with slippery swipes of his tongue, lavishing his puckered rim.

It was in that very moment that the final cogs clicked into place. To the world, Hannibal Lecter was a monster to the core, heinous and bloodthirsty and ravenous. To Will, Hannibal Lecter was the beast melting beneath his tongue, sugar-sweet and hotter than the sun. He was the cause of far too much devastation, yet the only source of salvation Will had ever known.

Hannibal was a part of him, drumming beneath his skin, nestled in between his lungs are surely as his own beating heart. Hannibal Lecter was stitched down deep within his bones.

Will rolled his tongue against Hannibal’s entrance until spit trickled down and seeped into the pillows beneath his hips. Hannibal grunted and writhed as if he were already being fucked. When Will pulled back Hannibal’s face was cherry red and dripping, tears clinging to his lashes and rolling down the slopes of his cheeks.

Will’s cock throbbed at the sight of Hannibal in such a state, spread wide for the taking and crumbling beneath Will’s hands and tongue. “Open yourself up for me,” he huffed out, sitting back and squeezing his cock to dull the mindless ache. 

Hannibal wordlessly obeyed, drizzling lube down his crack and on his fingers and circling his slicked up hole with two thick digits. He didn’t hesitate to press in one and then the next right alongside it, fucking himself open with the impatience of a man on the brink of his wildest dreams finally coming true.

“You’re beautiful,” Will said, breathless, mesmerized by the way Hannibal split himself in two. “I’ve always known. I’ve always seen it.” He reached out a trembling hand and pulled Hannibal’s fingers free, replacing them with two of his own. “I’m sorry it took until now to finally allow myself to accept it. To accept us.”

Will’s fingers slipped out and he dragged the head of his cock across Hannibal’s slick, open hole. His hands were shaking and his heart sat lodged inside his throat.

“ _Will_ ,” Hannibal whimpered, voice entirely broken. He reached out a hand to rest warm against Will’s abdominal scar. “I feel I’ve dreamed of this moment all my life.”

Will pushed forward and the head of his cock slipped right in, Hannibal’s body eager to swallow him whole. His eyes flicked from the join of their bodies to Hannibal’s face, and it was then he realized what he had not yet done.

Will pressed in inch by aching inch, falling down against Hannibal’s body and bending him nearly in two. He pushed Hannibal’s knees back to knock against his ears and Hannibal cried out as Will began to move. Will swallowed up the sound as their lips crashed together.

Will sucked on Hannibal’s lips and tongue and licked into his hungry mouth, hips snapping at a frenzied pace as their bodies melded together. Neither one of them was going to last, Will knew, angling his hips to hit the spot inside Hannibal that made him dig his fingers into Will’s back and moan deep and desperate into his mouth.

Will buried his face in the hollow of Hannibal’s throat. “I have one final confession,” he said, orgasm creeping in on him like the tide. “Would you like to hear it?”

Hannibal gripped Will’s ass and rocked up into his thrusts. “There is nothing I would rather hear in this moment,” he said, words punctuated by deep, rumbling moans.

Will pulled back to gaze into Hannibal’s lust-dark eyes. “It’s something you already know, but I still think you need to hear it,” he said, thrusts slowing to a slow roll of his hips. “I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time I think. It’s likely that I’ll be in love with you for the rest of my life.”

Will thrust in once and Hannibal arched up from the bed with a wounded sob. His cock leapt, untouched, and spilled out his release in hot spurts that streaked across the bandage just above his navel. Will fucked him through it, hips working overtime as he filled Hannibal up with his own release. He only stilled his thrusts once his soft cock slipped free of Hannibal’s warm, trembling body.

Will rolled onto his side and curled around Hannibal’s heaving chest. They lay there breathing and clutching at each other until their galloping hearts began to settle down. Hannibal pulled away and got to his feet to stumble down the hall to the bathroom. He returned with warm, damp towels and they sat on the edge of the bed gently cleaning one another.

“I have one final confession myself, if I may,” Hannibal said, reaching over to grab the tablet from the nightstand. He flipped it open but didn’t allow Will to see the screen.

“On a scale of one to we need to leave this place immediately, how worried should I be?”

Hannibal’s face grew soft with a smile. “I assure you, there is no reason to flee at the moment,” he said. “My confession is only that I’d like to request permission to spoil you rotten.”

Will gave Hannibal a curious look and snatched the tablet from his hands. The yacht staring back at him carried a price tag higher than many people earned in a lifetime. “Hannibal,” he said, handing the tablet back, slowly shaking his head, “absolutely not.”

“Stocked properly, we could call such a place home for months if need be.”

“You’re not buying me a million dollar yacht. I was looking for something practical. Something discreet.”

Hannibal considered his words for a moment, placing the tablet back on the nightstand. “This is practical. It can be discreet. I can wire the money and have the boat prepared without anyone ever having to see my face.”

“It’s in fucking Florida.”

“A mere day’s drive away.”

Will brimmed with annoyance and warmth and love. He knew Hannibal Lecter. He saw him right down to his shadowy core. He knew that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer this time.

“ _Ægir_ ,” Will said, incredulous. “He wasn’t actually a God, you know.”

Hannibal smirked, fire in his eyes, as he pulled Will close. “He didn’t need to be. He breathed life into the ocean all the same.”

Will nuzzled into Hannibal’s shoulder. “Where will we go?”

“Anywhere you’d like. The sea will be ours to conquer together.”

“I think I’ve conquered enough for one lifetime.” Will bent to press his ear to Hannibal’s chest, head filling with the steady thump of his heart. “Right now, I’d rather sit back and watch the waves roll by.”

The two of them crawled into bed and Hannibal clicked off the lamp. They curled into one another in the middle of the bed, arms and legs tangling until Will was uncertain where either of them began. He squeezed his eyes shut and saw the deck of the sea giant beneath his feet. He could smell the ocean salt and feel the sunlight warming his skin.

Hannibal stood at his side, magnificent, face upturned to the blue sky above. He reached for Will with one outstretched hand, drawing him in like the current.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap! Thank you so much to everyone who has been reading and commenting. I seriously cannot thank you guys enough. I hope that if you made it this far you enjoyed watching these two be utter messes together, and don't hesitate to come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


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